


The Window Tapping

by NicestPancake



Category: Original Work
Genre: AAAAAAAAAAA, Gen, Wow, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, but that's bc it's not that long of a story tbh, few words, hahah, life stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 16:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicestPancake/pseuds/NicestPancake
Summary: A true story of a creepy encounter I had back before I was in highschool. I wrote it a year-ish ago, but I'm getting all of my Qoutev stuff onto here, so I have two place peeps can read my stories.





	The Window Tapping

        The most horrific situation I have truly ever been in would have to be the time I heard tapping at the window. Now, that may not sound too horrifying, but let me explain a bit further before you make any judgments as to what exactly I went through. I was about, twelve, I'd say, and I had gone to bed at a reasonable hour. The sound of rain lulling me into the soft, sweet sound of sleep. Until I'm waken up by a strange tapping. Part of me said  _"Just go to sleep, it's probably a falling branch,"_  but that wasn't right to me. The nearest tree was a fairly medium-ish something-or-other, but it wasn't very wide. Even fallen, it could not produce the sound I was hearing.  
  
        So I attempt to calm myself, and look at the window-ish area, mind you this is BEFORE I had my dark blue curtain that masks me from the world, but it didn't matter. The world outside could not be seen through that window at the time it was, curtain or not. Then I realized something wasn't quite right about that either. The neighbor's doorstep light is super sensitive to anything moving for quite a long distance. If there truly was something out there that was normal, tapping on the window, I'd see it. Just as I convince myself that it's just 'Two AM Paranoia', it sounds again. This time it's sharper, clearer. The world goes silent and I cover my mouth. I know exactly where there's a flashlight if I want to find out, but I can't move my body. Any time I try to convince myself it's nothing, the tapping would sound.  
  
        I didn't want to call for dad, he was awake, but no. What if calling set something off in that thing's psyche? So I text him, and he comes walking through the door.  Now anyone who's met the man, knows how intimidating he is. Six-foot-five, definitely not without plenty of girth, beer belly, but he plays the card well, and messy, black, but silvering hair. I describe him as if he's some sort of redneck hillbilly, but he's only partially that. To anyone who isn't emotionally connected to my dad, he is intimidating. And believe me, he has about as much weight as he does  _mental instability_. He's probably just sane enough to qualify for an okay father as far as the law goes. Drinks beer like it's Coca-Cola and plays around with whatever his newest  _project_  is.  
  
        Well, anyways, this story isn't about the cool-but-unstable life of my dad. So, this large man that is my dad comes walking to the door asking, "What's wrong?" And I feel whatever compelled me to stay still, leave. Stuttering, "Something was- was at my window tapping it- and I don't know what it was." My dad, hearing a little girl who he created, frightened by something, got his shotgun out and said. "Well if something IS out there, it won't be for long." Then headed into the yard. It was about twenty minutes before he came back in and he said nothing was out there. My dad has always been the only one who took me seriously whenever something like that happened.


End file.
